


What's A Christmas Party Between Friends?

by justahappylittletree



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Asexual Enjolras, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Domestic Fluff, F/M, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Marius is good at board games, Multi, Non-Binary Jean Prouvaire, Pining, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:54:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28295622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justahappylittletree/pseuds/justahappylittletree
Summary: Les Amis are having their yearly Christmas party. Will Grantaire finally tell Enjolras how he feels or drown his sorrows in eggnog?Or just,Les Amis Christmas fluff with minimal plot.
Relationships: Bahorel/Feuilly (Les Misérables), Combeferre/Courfeyrac (Les Misérables), Cosette Fauchelevent/Marius Pontmercy, Enjolras & Grantaire (Les Misérables), Grantaire & Jean "Jehan" Prouvaire & Éponine Thénardier, Joly/Bossuet Laigle/Musichetta
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Winter to everyone whether you celebrate Christmas or not!
> 
> I couldn't resist writing something Christmassy so here it is with my favourite Barricade Boys. In under an hour. It's rushed and mediocre but I will milk the Christmas trope for all the serotonin it's worth.

"Where is it?"

Grantaire throws aside the rest of the mess at the bottom of his closet: Moth-bitten books, CDs covered in doodles, old paint brushes, his skateboard from 8th grade and too many bottles of expired nail polish. _Where is it?_ The year he _finally_ works up the courage to get Enjolras a present and now he's gone and lost it somewhere. Perfect.

He can hear Jehan bustling around in the kitchen downstairs. They've come over to make gingerbread cookies for the party later. The party that Grantaire is meant to give Enjolras his present at. The present he spent weeks on. The one he has lost in the depths of his room somewhere.

Great. Way to go and ruin your own plans.

It was a stupid present anyway. A tiny notebook of drawings and paintings of things he knew Enjolras liked. Of their friends. Portraits of each of them that Enjolras could shelve in his apartment somewhere. So then maybe Grantaire could at least be satisfied that Enjolras had a small part of him to keep. Aside from his heart; Enjolras has already had that for months. Not that he knows about it.

From the kitchen, Jehan is whistling 'All I Want For Christmas' perfectly in tune. 

Grantaire kicks his old skateboard lamely and sighs. It wouldn't have worked out anyway. Enjolras is too good for him. For them all really. A god among men. Something poetic like that.

The smell of Jehan's baking wafts into the room and warms Grantaire inside. Cinnamon and soft sugar and treacle. He needs a cookie and a blanket. Jehan will know what to do. They always give great pep talks. 

As Grantaire makes his way down the stairs, outside the window it starts to snow. _It's like I'm in a Hallmark movie,_ he thinks with a sigh, _without the romance or the flashy Christmas decorations._ Who knows, maybe with some luck, one of those things might change. And he's really hoping it's _not_ the decorations.

* * *

Courfeyrac wakes up and opens his eyes a little. Takes a deep breath. Smiles under the sheets.

Him and Combeferre are still a tangled mess of limbs, stuck to each other and wearing nothing but bed sheets. _Whoops._ Courfeyrac trails his hand along Ferre's cheek, tracing mindless patterns as he blinks the sleep out of his eyes. 

He kisses Ferre lighty, "I'm going to shower. Get your beauty sleep, sunshine." 

Nothing but a grumble and a sleepy "okay" from Ferre, who yawns into his arm and rolls over with a grunt. Attaboy. 

Courfeyrac showers and pulls on one of Ferre's sweaters after. It's the one he got at the Science Olympiad last year. It smells like...well...like Ferre. Like warmth and safety and love and tea in bed with a book. The kind of smell that still puts that cheesy grin on Courfeyrac's face.

"Remember the year Joly hosted the Christmas party and you got so drunk that you thought his hamster was an undiscovered species of rat?" 

They're both sitting on the sofa surrounded by Courfeyrac's decorations which come in the form of life size cardboard snowmen. The TV is flashing old reruns of _I Love Lucy._

Ferre sips his tea, the colour rising in his cheeks. 

"Remember the last time Marius hosted the party and you proclaimed your undying love for me at the karaoke machine?" 

It's Courfeyrac's turn to go red. 

"In my defense, I did have too much to drink...and in the end, it won you over-"

"You sang _Total Eclipse of the Heart_!" Ferre is laughing hard now.

"It's a good song! I knew you would fall madly in love with me!" Courfeyrac says indignantly. 

Ferre wipes tears from his eyes, still laughing a little as he kisses him. Courfeyrac puts his head on Ferres shoulder as he kisses him again.

"You were right," Ferre grins, "Your talents just blew me away. I knew you were the one for me the minute you got to the mic."

On the tv, Lucy is working at the chocolate factory, stuffing chocolates into her mouth. She looks like a chipmunk. The laugh track sounds.

"Poor Marius is hosting again. I'll try not to hog the karaoke machine later." Courfeyrac says, snuggling closer. 

They're tangled together under the blankets to stay warm. The snow outside is getting heavier. 

"If you do, how about I join you? We can do ABBA or something. Might even convince Enjolras to join in."

"That sounds perfect."

* * *

"More chocolate chips?" Feuilly asks behind a wall of flour. It's floating in the air like a cloud. He can feel a sneeze coming on.

"More." Marius agrees with a serious nod.

They're making cookies for the party. It's Marius' idea of party food. In all honesty, he makes pretty good cookies so Feuilly is happy to help. 

"Boys? Can you come out here? We need opinions." Cosette calls from the living room. Her and Bahorel are decorating. 

"Should we move it to the left?" Or the right?" Bahorel waves a hand at the tree in the corner of the room.

His husband and Cosette are wearing santa hats. They look deadly serious with the work at hand.

"The left?" Marius says like it's a question. Feuilly agrees.

"White or red ribbons?"

"Do you have a playlist set up?"

"Do you think the cat will be able to get the fairylights up there?" 

"Is the eggnog ready?"

"Is it too much if I get some board games out?" 

Feuilly thinks secretly it's a good thing him and Bahorel haven't hosted the Christmas party yet. This is a learning experience. The preparation that goes into it - well, Bahorel is good at planning. Out of the two of them, it was Bahorel who was on top of the wedding plans last year. He would have lists of lists for a Christmas party. 

Back in the kitchen, Marius puts the cookies in the oven and sighs with a smile, "Parties. I said after the last time we hosted I wouldn't do it again but here I am."

"The time when Courfeyrac took over the karaoke the whole night? And Grantaire did the worm?" 

Marius laughs, "It _was_ a good party, all things considered." 

They dust off their flour-covered aprons and wash up. 

"The things you do for your friends." Marius shakes his head as he dries the mixing bowl and clatters about the presses putting it away.

They take the cookies out of the oven.

"For Christmas." Feuilly notes, taking one.

"For Christmas." Marius agrees with a laugh.

They cheers their cookies to that.

* * *

"So let me get this straight: you lost the present for the love of your life and now you don't know what to do because you want to confess your feelings but were relying on the present as an icebreaker?" 

"That's it, yeah. Can I have another one?" 

"Sure."

Grantaire is sitting on the kitchen counter like a kid, clutching a glass of milk and stuffing his face with Jehan's cookies. 

"You know Marius said he'd make cookies too?" Grantaire points out.

Jehan takes another full tray out of the oven and sighs, "You're changing the subject _mister_. And anyway what about it? There's room enough for all the cookies, what with you eating all mine." 

They put their hands on their hips and fix Grantaire with a look, like a scrutinizing adult trying to weedle their kid into behaving well. They both laugh. Jehan helps themselves to a cookie.

"What am I meant to do? He's just going to say no. And then what? I have to live with that?" Grantaire gulps his milk.

"You and this crush on Enjolras. How long has it been? Decades?" 

Grantaire rolls his eyes and grabs another cookie.

Jehan shrugs, "Just saying. At least if _I_ had a crush I would do something." 

"Well we can't all be as amazing and confident as you, love expert." 

There's a knock on the door. Eponine. 

Ten minutes later the three of them are stuffing themselves with cookies and Eponine is shivering. It's freezing out there. Her hair is dusted in snow. Jehan puts their arm around her hesitantly. Grantaire is clutching his milk like a man with nothing else.

"Are you crazy?! I can't just _tell_ him!" He splutters, eyes wide. 

Jehan and Eponine both share a look, as if to say: _Can you believe this guy?fuck_ invented love?" He mutters.

" _Who the fuck invented love._ I want that tattooed on my forehead."

"Same." 

For Jehan, the party couldn't come soon enough.

For Grantaire...well, the party meant seeing Enjolras. He wasn't sure if that's a good thing or not.

* * *

"Joly! Here!" Musichetta is hidden under several coats and pairs of mittens. Her hat makes her bangs cover her eyes. "You'll catch a cold!" She throws a scarf around Joly who kisses her nose since it's all her can see of her.

"You're gonna leave me to make this guy all by myself?" Bossuet calls. His face, red with the cold, is beaming.

The snowman he and his boyfriend have made is taller than both of them. It's shaped like a fridge, sure, but look at it! All it needs is a head….and some arms. And maybe a lot more to make it less fridge-like.

"I'll get the nose! And a hat!" Musichetta races back into the house. Joly gives the snowman tiny twigs for arms. Like a t-rex. Bossuet gives it pebbles for eyes and pieces together a haphazard smile.

Musichetta finishes it off with a floppy straw sun hat and a carrot nose. 

"Perfect." She laughs. Her breath condenses with her boyfriends' in the air, twisting and spilling like smoke. It's pretty, she thinks.

"C'mere." Bossuet tackles them both in a bear hug. Kisses his partners on their heads and grins. It's started snowing again. 

All three of them are a huddle of rosy faces and icy breaths. They'll be frozen little snowpeople if they stay out here much longer.

"Let's go inside and get ready for the party. Joly you should wear that jumper. You know the one Feuilly got you last year?"

"Can we have hot cocoa first?" 

"What do you think Musi? Cocoa and marshmallows? You know it's Joly and mine's favourite." Bossuet pitches in.

The three of them squeeze through the doorway and Musichetta shakes the snow out of her hair with a laugh. "I guess it couldn't hurt…"

They make the cocoa and pile it with marshmallows and get ready for the party as their little apartment fills up with love.

* * *

The party is in full swing. Marius and Cosette are doing the rounds with cookies and topping up glasses and full host duties. The house is decorated from top to bottom, definitely a job done with Bahorel's help. The fairylights across the living room are blinking all sorts of colours. Trippy.

Grantaire is sitting on the sofa, picking at his itchy Christmas sweater with a glass of eggnog in hand. He doesn't even _like_ eggnog. And of course, Enjolras is late.

 _It's Frangelico. Hazelnut liqueur._ Marius had said, _A present from my grandfather. I figured now was a good time to use it up. Cosette and I would never finish it ourselves._ Good old Marius. Always had things together. Not a mess unlike..well… _Grantaire._

"Enjolras! You're here!" He shouts it a little too enthusiastically, sloshing eggnog over the rim of the glass in his hand.

Enjolras has arrived. He's wearing his red coat and a scarf to match. _Of course he is._

By some sort of miracle (or curse?) Enjolras hasn't heard him. He's too busy hanging his coat up and waving to Courfeyrac and Combeferre who hand him a glass of wine and are ushering him towards the sofa...where Grantaire is sitting. 

_Oh no._ Grantaire moves to the floor and lets Courfeyrac, Combeferre and Enjolras sit down. Enjolras flashes him a polite smile and Grantaire wonders if the burning in his cheeks is as obvious with the fairy lights flashing behind him. It probably is.

"Apollo," Grantaire nods, trying to pull on the ease and confidence he can muster every other interaction, "The reason for the season itself. I didn't think you were able to relax, never mind party." He takes another gulp of eggnog, trying to look nonchalant, and feels his hands shaking ever so slightly.

"Grantaire," Enjolras squints as the fairylights flash behind Grantaire, "I'm here to spend time with my friends. I'm glad you're here. At least it might be entertaining. Someone I can debate with."

_The way he speaks. The way he smiles. The way he just is._

It's going to be a long night.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I literally wrote this INSIDE the chapter text box in the middle of the night. Excuse any spelling mistakes or general grievances. Lol I'm sorry if its rushed or complete trash but I wanted to get it out there. So enjoy (hopefully)
> 
> :)

Days pass. Maybe hours. Years. Who knows. Grantaire is too busy staring into the same half empty glass of eggnog with a grimace and staring up at his one true god. His Apollo. The one who is carved from suffering and beauty. The one who sweeps the cobwebs away every morning and gives him some light to look forward to-

"-That's why _We Wish You A Merry Christmas_ is a pretty good christmas carol. I've always said it. It's just some good wishes that become a militant demand for figgy pudding and direct action in the form of sit down protests. Effective. Clever." Enjolras is saying. He hasn't even touched the glass of red wine that he sat down with. He really is this _spirited_ without drink.

"No Jesus and no God either. Perfect. It's catchy as well." Grantaire pitches in. Enjolras nods and Grantaire wonders if he should have drowned his sorrows in eggnog instead of not touching it. Maybe he'd be more talkative then. More fun. Enjolras would notice him maybe.

Courfeyrac is nodding sleepily into his wine glass. Combeferre is snoring quietly against Courfs shoulder. 

Feuilly, Bahorel, Marius and Cosette are playing an outrageously competitive game of Monopoly on the other side of the room. Every now and then there's a victorious shout as Marius succeeds in buying yet another of Bahorel's properties. Marius has already won the game three times over. And the four Scrabble games before that.

Bossuet, Joly and Musichetta have taken over the music speakers and are now dancing around the halls to _Last Christmas._ They've somehow gotten hold of a roll of tinsel and are all sharing it as a scarf.

Eponine and Jehan are nowhere to be found. Grantaire can hardly be surprised. The minute they arrived at the party, the two of them disappeared. 

_Hope they had some mistletoe up. Make it more festive._ He thinks dully.

The fairylights are starting to hurt his eyes. Or maybe it's spending too long staring into the divine face in front of him.

What did he do to deserve this? Sitting at a party, at the feet of the guy he has had a crush on for months and listening to George Michael through the plaster walls while nothing happens and he can't muster up the courage to speak?

"Courf?" Enjolras says quietly. Courfeyrac is asleep. Him and Combeferre have curled up together, instinctively it seems.

"Here." Grantaire offers up the blanket he's been wearing around his shoulders - a terrible hiding technique, trying to avoid Enjolras' gaze.

"Thanks." Enjolras drapes it over the pair. 

A _boooo_ sounds as Marius wins again. 

"How about another game? Something I can win this time?" Bahorel is pleading. Cossette is laughing into her paper money.

Enjolras smiles _beautifully_ and Grantaire's heart threatens to self combust as those eyes fall on him.

"I'm going to get a glass of water. Want anything?" 

…. _I want you._

"Water- I can...I'll come. So you don't have to carry them." Grantaire says lamely, setting his glass down and getting to his feet. 

They pass Jehan and Eponine on the stairs. Locked in each other's arms. Kissing. His two best friends? Dating? Hanging out is about to get a lot more awkward.

Bossuet, Joly and Musichetta are now dancing arm in arm to _Bad Romance._ Very Christmassy.

In the kitchen it's just the two of them. Enjolras is looking around the cupboards for glasses. 

_His hands._

"Here." He fills one with water and hands it Grantaire.

_His amazing hands._

"Thanks."

They drink in silence. It's quiet in here...well quieter than it is outside anyway. 

Enjolras' golden curls seem to glow of their own accord in the dim. His mouth makes a perfect smile.

"You know Grantaire," he says, cradling his glass, "I really appreciate your presence at the meetings recently."

"You do?"

"You always have something to discuss. You make me think more about things, like a challenge. It's nice."

"Oh, right. Well that's what I'm here for." Grantaire tries not to choke on his water.

 _That's what I'm here for?_ Smooth Grantaire. Great way to win him over.

"Making the mighty Enjolras think more? It's an honour."

_His eyes._

Enjolras just smiles lightly, like a sort of blessing. His brilliant mind and soul, thanking Grantaire? Madness. Maybe the Christmas spirit really has gotten to him.

 _"His amazing eyes."_  
Oh no.

"What? What did you say?" 

"Nothing. I didn't say anything. I'm not in love with you."

_For the love of Apollo._

Can the floor please swallow him up? Can someone walk in and break up whatever awkward terrible thing is unfolding?

"You're not in love with me?" Enjolras repeats. Is he smiling? No. Hardly-

"No! Well I don't mean that- I just mean…" _I love you! You idiot! I'm in love with you! Isn't it painfully obvious!_

A soft laugh. An actual _laugh_. Like a ray of light breaking through a cloud. It's pure and wonderful and awful and too much.

"Look I get it. You're not into guys. Or I'm not your type. I get it. But I couldn't not tell you." Grantaire is in a half panic by now. Trying to explain his way out of it. Trying to backtrack the words that are coming out of his mouth-

A hand takes his. He sets his glass down. Enjolras' fingers curl around his own slowly. Grantaire can't form words so he just watches. It's a gentle grip. Warm. Steady.

"I like you too, Grantaire."

"What? Really? You're kidding."

"I'm not." 

Well, that's it. Grantaire could die happy. This is actually happening. This is happening. This is real. 

_I like you too._

* * *

Enjolras watches him and Grantaire's footsteps imprint in the snow.

Somehow Grantaire has convinced him to come outside and watch him catch snowflakes on his tongue. Under the streetlights in front of Marius' house everything has a soft glow. 

_I like you too Grantaire._

It's true. He does like Grantaire, who is laughing as snow peppers his hair. It makes Enjolras feel warm inside even if he is shivering. He pushes his hands further into his pockets.

_Can we take things slow? I'm still figuring things out. What I'm comfortable with._

_Of course we can._

Enjolras really likes Grantaire. He's never felt like he's wanted to see someone, be around someone, make someone this happy before. He just wasn't sure Grantaire would understand their differences of opinion on intimacy. On affection. Kissing. Sex.

He's getting ahead of himself, maybe. 

But Grantaire is okay with it. Is okay with them compromising. That makes Enjolras smile. His breath condenses with a pale glow, swirling out of his lips.

"Are you cold? Here." Grantaire, being the dork he is, takes his own coat off and puts it around Enjolras' shoulders. 

"Can I hold your hand?" Grantaire asks. His dark eyes are shining. His curls are blanketed in snow. He's grinning.

Enjolras takes his hands in both of his own. Maybe things _will_ work out with him. Grantaire holds on tight. 

_Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer_ is playing inside the house. It echoes out here even.

The snow coats their shoulders. This feels weird. Like it's too good to be true. Hallmark movie style.

"Are you both crazy? You're going to freeze out there!" Courfeyrac yells from the doorway. Combeferre is beside him, wearing a mountain of blankets.

With a _whoop_ Grantaire flings a snowball at them. It misses, by a long shot, landing at their feet but it's enough to get Courf running.

They're shouting and laughing and throwing and dodging snowballs left and right. He and Grantaire are still holding hands.

Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta have made their way outside. And Feuilly and Bahorel. Marius and Cosette. Even Eponine and Jehan. 

What had Enjolras come here for?

_To spend time with my friends._

They end up having a snowball fight of epic proportions. Who knew Marius was so agile? And had such good aim?  
They build snowmen and make snow angels. And when it gets too cold they all head back inside for music and games and drink and chocolate.

It's perfect, surprisingly.

Grantaire hugs Enjolras tight. They're sitting on the sofa, dozing off.

Maybe it was worth his while coming after all.

A real Christmas party to remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone has a good 2021 - better than 2020 anyway!


End file.
